The Grand Gesture
by scificomplexity
Summary: Clearly they would meet in the future at some point. The Wedding of Luke and Lorelai. Just hope they get it right this time. My take, which I wanted to make as realistic and believable as possible. I am a big believer in the details. It's not going to be a short road for these two.
1. A Muse and some Musings

I don't own this franchise. If I did it would have ended differently. Sorry Paladino.  
Procrastination leads to writing.

They themselves were a great piece of literature. A piece that neither would choose to read but indulge in, on the basis of tradition and classic. Individual stories intertwined but never meeting. Neither believed in fate or destiny, and rightly so. Both were intelligent enough to look past the yearning hearts and "what ifs" but neither had forgotten the other.

He thought of her on clear days when the sky was brightest blue and in the gentle hum of his local record store. As he smoked lonely cigarettes on the pavement outside his apartment he sat with his legs in the quiet road seeing instead of tarmac the cool reflective water through his eyes and almost feeling like the pavement were wood beneath him. He stopped ordering take-out because it reminded him of her. Began cooking; much to Luke's surprise and questioning. He read about her in novels with mistrusting heroines and roguish suitors. She came out of him sometimes onto the page as he scrawled, attempting to quench the paper with ideas, musings and pros as quips they had shared that recurred in his memory. His dreams often involved the constant pouring of coffee for strangers in a vast diner, the waited all faceless and brunette, he struggled through the crowd to find those sapphires blinking. He never found them.

It was on one of those pale cobalt plastered sky days that the invitation arrived. The weighted cream paper threw him off for a second, his usual mail consisted of bills and the never ending, taunting menu selections. Opening the envelope a folded piece of paper fluttered to the floor out of the invitation that he caught the first glimpse of-

_You are cordially invited to the wedding of:_

_Lorelai Victoria Gilmore & Lucas Danes…_

_Unsurprising._ He thought to himself, but felt a sting deep in his gut. _I thought he would have told me…_ He bent to pick up the fallen note and recognised his uncle's writing. The outer gave a phone number he didn't recognise but supplied him with knowledge that his Uncle's number had clearly changed. He read the inner note, a wry smile gathering on his face.

_Hi Jess, sorry we had to tell you like this. Please ring asap. New number. Taylor wanted the town phone numbering altered. Long and pointless story. Anytime to ring is fine I could do with a sane conversation. _

_Luke_

_P.S. Do ring soon.  
P.P.S. _(This time a woman's hand he noted.) _You'll be needing a tux or nice suit but he refuses to ask you. Hope your well. Lorelai_

He reached for the phone lying on the kitchen table and typed the numbers hearing the hollow dialling tone. He waited.

"Luke's Diner! How can I help yo- Kirk put DOWN those donut tongues! Sorry how can I help you?" Luke sounded rushed, Jess really hadn't considered the time of the call, he just figured there was no time like the present. He could hear Stars Hollow breakfast rush-hour in the background, muffled conversations, Kirk making indignant outbursts mingled with a murmur of frying bacon.

"I think I owe you a congratulations." His smile having become more genuine having heard his uncle's voice. He realised it had been months since they'd spoken properly. Jess had been fused to his computer, focused and driven to finish his second book. Slowly becoming a hermit, his housemate cracking jokes about rickets on the rare occasion he graced them with his presence. He had the final draft laying on his dresser – 3 copies to be exact.

"Jess! Ah thank god. Someone with more than 5 brain cells. Kirk I already warned you twice."

"Sounds the usual morning circus," he kept his tone light but the sarcasm unashamedly clung to his words.

"Yeh, how you bin? Good I hope? I am sure you're good. Caesar take these to the window table I gotta take this," he heard stifled complaining and the bouncing cord of the phone against the coffee maker before a hush came over the other end.

"Locked yourself in the store room?"

"Yeah…how'd you..?"

"Space to think. Peaceful even. And the pickles were never as friendly as Miss Patty."

"Ahhh." Silence fell between them broken by a clearly uneasy Luke.

"So, wedding stuff. Erm, we decided, well I asked and she said yes-"

"Yeah I get the general gist of the workings of proposals."

"I er, need you hear next week. What with the close date and such. Sorry for the short notice. Lorelai wanted the whole summer flowers things and to be honest as much as I want to marry her I would rather not wait around for some big party that Taylor will make some town law against or Miss Patty will insist on teaching me professional dance, or Kirk agrees to leave town permanently if he's made page boy."

Jess sniggered on the other line.

"He even showed me the costume."

"Ruffles?"

"Lace."

"Egh, why don't you keep it small? Avoid any instance of Kirk even making an appearance" he questioned although he already knew the answer.

"Lorelai wanted the party. You know Gilmores. To be fair, her parents have chipped in a fair bit to cover a lot of the costs. Though I am aware I'll probably be in their debt now, of which I was hoping to avoid. It's not even like I couldn't have sorted it with my finances yknow," He could tell something else was playing on Luke's mind, but the mystery remained.

"You can cut to the chase Luke, I'll be able to be there next week. Will just hold off the book launch for a few weeks. Not the first time I have needed an extension and what with it all ready to go they can't really complain about my request. I'll be there to help with the afternoon shift next Tuesday" he heard himself saying this without even thinking, "What else did you need?"

Silence fell again.

" Telepathy is a) more difficult on the phone and b) fictional so you're gonna have to use the speech thing we've spoken about." He joked, his tone back to light.

"Best man."

"Not Kirk."

"So….."

"Yeah?"

"You." It was a statement not a question. Jess thought, he was going back to that crazy town for another inevitably mental wedding. But he was extremely flattered to have been asked. Especially as he must have had to convince Lorelai into letting him be a part of the wedding. He thought again. Sapphire burned the back of his eyes but he closed them. Brushed them aside and didn't ask what he wanted too.

"Ok."

"Ok?"

"Yeah that's what I said. I'll see you Tuesday."

"Excellent! And Jess…"

"Yeah?" This silence was beginning to frustrate Jess. It was awkward enough when he and his uncle spoke on the phone let alone the coffee breaks lengths in conversation.

"She's maid of honor." Flash. Sapphire. He blinked trying to lose them. Force them back into the depths. He knew his breath had caught before he could stop himself. _I haven't seen her since she walked out on me again. "It is what it is. You. Me." _Those words had haunted him since. He had cursed on many the occasion as to how relevant they were to their situation. Always and yet somehow never right.

Luke broke the now uncomfortable silence. "Thought you'd have guessed but just wanted to let you know. Oh and she didn't marry that guy or anything." As if it was an afterthought but Jess knew he would have led with that if they were closer. The sharing types.

He was getting that all too familiar feeling. Brain swimming in pros and need and want and blue and stolen kisses and margin notes and dusty books and bridges and ….

"Good." He whispered surprising himself. He could sense Luke's knowing smile and predicting the need for information to pass to Lorelai he cut the conversation there.

"Thanks Luke, it's an honour man. Will see you Tuesday. Congrats again." And before Luke could question how he felt he turned off the phone.

He needed a cigarette. He found them stuck in his bookcase next to _The Fountainhead _.He lit it on the gas hob, leaning out of his window. He felt sick. She turned him down. He had thought that was the right time. He didn't think it was love anymore. Infatuation with a 6 year old idea perhaps. But she was more than the one that got away. Modest about her beauty, careless about her laughter and above all, she read Hemingway for him. A girl had never read anything he had recommended before that day. That is what had stuck with him, her love of literature was unrivalled by anyone else he had ever known and seeing her brow furrowed, eyes skimming the page reaching for the coffee teetering on the edge of the table but never knocking it to the floor. It was the sexiest sight he had ever witnessed. She saw past his cold exterior and it had frightened him as a brooding 17 year old but his exterior had mellowed. She'd seen that. Maturity (and a beard) suited him. Both kindred spirits he couldn't help clinging to the slim idea that this time it could be different when they crossed paths. Maybe.

He put out his cigarette and paced to his dresser, flipping open the front cover of the topmost book. He re-read the dedication. For once a witty remark had failed him. This time there was just written one word.

_Nancy_

She'd been planning for weeks, helping her mum. But she needed a break. Pouring a large cup of coffee she went out onto the porch grabbing a worn copy of a book from the counter. Sipping her coffee she breathed in the scent of honeysuckle and violets which adorned the garden sporadically amongst the grass. _He'll be hear on Tuesday. _Her mother had informed her of the best man acceptance and his week early Stars Hollow appointment to help Luke out. She really hadn't known how to feel. Today was Tuesday. They'd gone a long time without talking before. Almost 3 years infact, but these last few had seemed worse. Once she got on that bus journey "the travelling reporter" she'd done her fair share of socialising, but the evenings we still spent with good books.

She hadn't intended to pack it. But she wanted to. Something in the back of her mind told her she should. So without question it sat at the bottom of her case til about 6 weeks into her trip. She wanted something with a little more substance, and dug it out from amongst the clothes. What she hadn't realised the first time round was just how much of Jess was jam-packed into this book. His style, the finess; even the vocabulary. Sometimes a page was filled with just short sentences as if he just hadn't wanted to talk that day but had been forced to. It just _was_ him. She'd written in the margins over time. Things she might ask him about if they ever met again.

Slowly he had filtered back into her mind. The intrigue in his notes, was unparalleled. She'd saw him every day, in passing young teenagers in leather jackets, smokers hiding their habit as they blew smoke away from the passers-by. In every ice-cream cone – _Then I promise I'll study._ It echoed as if it happened yesterday. Sometimes he even made it into her dreams. Always sat across from her. Always wearing that knowing smirk. Looking, what felt like right into her. Then he fades and she tries to grasp his hand on the table but it falls right through. Once she even threw herself across the table to try and place her lips to his but instead fell and awoke suddenly.

She took another sip of coffee and glanced at the book beside her. She'd now read it at least 8 times cover to cover. This nostalgic trip she took with Jess hurt. He used to excite her. Everything he did with his youthful, impulsive nature was so unlike her own he had made her feel braver, if a little wreckless. She had wanted to give herself to him. The day she called Dean's house and Lindsay answered she heard the voice in her head - _you know it was supposed to be Jess._ But she'd put that away. The Jess box in her mind. He'd told her he loved her and she had done nothing. He asked her to run away and she declined. He'd wanted her then too, in Philadelphia but she wasn't brave anymore. She couldn't follow his eyes. Logan had made her weak, lifeless. Soulless. Regret overwhelmed her when she thought of her actions towards him. She had never expected Jess to state his love for her, or dedicate his first book to her and say he couldn't have done it without her.

Her mind flew back. _Why are you here? I moved back. Why? I just….wanted to._ The one time she had got it right. This explicit gesture had been for her and her alone. And her reciprocation had been badly timed but never dwelled negatively upon. Their shared kisses were like fire. White hot with passion she'd felt with no one else. The way he grazed her skin just enough that she had always wanted more. She'd never forgotten that feeling.

She cared. But she wasn't sure how to show it. Not yet. But there was unequivocal doubt that she was required to return a gesture. Any one of the last few he'd given. She picked up the book and flipped to her marker. If not at least to preserve a friendship she considered important for her future.

_Ernest only has lovely things to say about you._


	2. To Reminisce

Again I don't own it. And procrastination is a bitch.  
Also it's quite a reminiscent chapter. I especially wanted to show something of their early trip to the book store. And how things panned out for them there. We know much of the other ins and outs. And I wanted to show subtley that both of them have nice memories of the other that they return too that don't have to involve physical events. Just time spent in each other's company.

Walking calmed her down these days, especially if reading wasn't doing the trick. So she grabbed her purse and moseyed across town. Nerves were getting the better of her in the knowledge he was coming to town. Her feet were leading a path she found familiar though she walked with no particular destination in mind. It was a clear warm summer's day and the town was bustling with people. The general town's folk had gotten used to her home over the past few weeks, but the usual raised hand and kind hello did content her for the time being.

She wandered away from the centre of town and recognised the route she was taking. Remaining unaware of which organ was winning the internal Rory Gilmore tug-of-war; head or heart. She walked across the bridge and found herself sitting instead of with her legs over the water, sat in the exact spot of the bid-a-basket competition. Clearly just nostalgia, she thought.

The rest of that day had been known to only her and Jess. That was the day that things truly changed for her. They went to get pizza and he didn't even have to ask what she wanted.

_One with everything?_

_Yeah…_

She remembered feeling so nervous that night. Fear of the unknown with this boy who wasn't her boyfriend. Yet she felt incredibly comfortable. He took them on an unusual route about the town eating pizza and conversing abuot books. Exchanging the odd witty comment. It impressed her he already knew the town so well; he barely raised his head in the direction they were going. She caught him constantly looking at her when he thought she was distracted. Something she had never gotten used to. Surrounded by dusty volumes the air was thick in the book shop – their final destination. She remembered heading straight for a corner she was very familiar with where the little-thought-of books were kept. Literary works she would come back to again and again.

She hadn't heard him approach behind her. He kept his voice low.

"Find anything?"

She jumped and he grinned. Not his usual smirk but the same one he'd given her when on the bridge earlier that day. Her heart was skipping.

"Didn't mean to startle you." He stood next to her looking out of the corner of his eye at the books she already had collected in her arms.

"Good selection."

"Thanks." She replied dumbly. Not really knowing what else to say in response.

"You know they have the best books hidden here. Like books that should be classic but no one thinks their classics."

"I know what you mean; a few volumes in this section definitely have the Mariano seal of approval." He paused.

"Sometimes I forget that I have to give them back." This comment confused her for a second but he continued.

"Y'know. I like writing in the margins, thoughts and such. But their for me. I don't want some ancient biddy coming along and reading my thoughts on Kerouac or …."

"You wrote in my book." She stated simply, trying to catch his eye.

"Well…. You're a special case I guess." He turned to look at her, their eyes set - blue to brown. This truth was unexpected and she found herself wondering as the naïve young girl she was whether he'd ever written in another girl's books before.

His intense stare was making her feel …uncomfortable or flattered she wasn't even sure. She had to say something. Distract herself.

"I don't think old biddys will want to read Kerouac. So I think you're safe."

He smiled, "You're probably right." They had spent the entire afternoon together rather than a short lunch with her basket. She was surprised by how nice the time had been but found herself glad he'd bid on her basket. All thoughts of Dean's existance in that moment were forgotten.

"Come on. We should head off otherwise we'll both be in trouble." It sounded forced but sincere.

After paying for the books they left each other with once last glance outside the book shop.

Now a grown woman she realised it had been longing on both their parts. All those stolen glances and held gazes across the counter and tables and the streets of Stars Hollow. But again, they were young. She recalled again what he had said – _you're a special case, I guess_.

Those words had flooded her mind. Why would Jess have thought her special? He had been the bad-boy of town, perhaps he had just wanted to turn the girl from the straight and narrow off the right path.

_I did that myself in the end. _She admitted bitterly.

She realised that she'd been sat dwelling on the past for far too long. She needed coffee and fast. She had to brave it. So she headed in the direction of Luke's. But before she packed his book back into her bag, she made a small note in the front.

_I only wrote in the margin of yours._

Jess had packed for the occasion, begrudgingly borrowing a full suit from his housemate and hanging it in the back of his car. All 3 early copies of his book were sat on the passenger seat. He hoped his current car was inconspicuous enough to get him through town and into Luke's without the light speed travel time of gossip for him to hide in the diner at least til the punters came by for dinner.

The drive hadn't settled his nerves. If anything a frustration had begun to simmer inside of him about half way through the journey. He'd realised after all this time he'd constantly been chasing. When she was with Dean, he'd never had the upper hand. Even with their intense compatibility he was still second best. He had been to Logan too. Used to get back at him. He'd never been hurt like that. Even his mother had never cut wounds that deep. Their whole story played like a re-run in his head. Him chasing the unattainable. He had run of course. When he didn't know what else to do. Embarrassed of what she would think of him; her Ivy League school status weighing heavy on him as he saw her get off the bus the day he left. He'd been weak then. When he had made something of himself he thought it would be enough. But maybe not. He passed the tree stump of the accident (which had been cornered off for a month according to Luke after it had happened) and it all came back as if she were in the car with him.

"_Or I could turn right and we'd just be driving in circles….for a while"_

"_Turn right."_

"_As you wish." _He couldn't hide the grin on his face. The music continued at a low volume filling the silence that had fallen. He'd extended a hand to her twice now, and he didn't think she would accept it twice. The tension was building on every occasion they had found themselves alone in each other's presence. But she'd wanted him to keep driving.

"Honestly Jess," she began a little unsure at first "You're really not going to go to college?"

He frowned. He wanted to drop that. College wasn't part of his future. Whether she liked it or not and she just had to accept that. He'd graduate High School and then go wherever the wind took him. She started again, interrupting any argument he might have had-

"Everyone says you're clever Jess. But applying yourself is difficult. I get that. Sometimes I go hours where nothing seems to go in but then it just clicks. Take statistics in maths for instance…"

"I just don't want to. It's not my scene. All those high and mighty frat boys and parties with jelly shots and bad music thrown by people who believe they are more attractive and intelligent than they really are and truly believing that their music collection is something to be desired. Besides, the thought of writing my own book is ….."

Again he'd shared something with her that no others had been privy too. He wished at that moment he could retract the statement and nearly turned left as they'd completed yet another lap round to Luke's but she didn't laugh. He turned right again.

"You want to write?"

"Maybe. I just need enough inspiration and I think one day I could."

"That's really quite admirable Jess," Rory was smiling at him and he found it hard to keep his eyes on the road. He found himself wishing they could stop for a while and just sit rather than him only half concentrating on the road because a beautiful girl was sat on the seat beside him. If he'd been used to such a thing as compliments he might not have flushed. He thanked every rock'n'roll band at that moment that is was dark enough that she wouldn't be able to perceive his embarrassment. No-one had ever used his name and the word "Admirable" in a sentence together before. As pathetic and self-centred as that sounded but because it was Rory, he knew she was being entirely sincere.

"Th-thanks."

Silence fell again, but a comfortable, almost ambient atmosphere took over. He broke it suddenly, arrogance getting the better of him.

"So what about dearest Dean. He going off to college? Gonna follow you to a similar market to work while you study with the greats?" she winced. He'd pushed it too far.

"If you must know yes." She folded her arms defensively across her chest.

"Bet its community college right next door…" he mumbled.

"So what if it community college, at least he's going and has some direction."

"A minute ago you just said writing a book was admirable…and that I had a good sense of direction."

"Not when you're 57 its not."

"You know that's not what I meant anyway." She added. She was trying and failing to hide an amused expression appearing on her face. But as he glanced at her again her expression had changed to one of wide eyes and shock as she yelled,

"JESS! WATCH OUT!"

He swerved.

It all came back to him so easily when travelling to this little town. He pulled up infront of Luke's. _I think I left my heart here all those years ago._ He thought sombrely. He'd begun to get poetic again, which lead him to reach for his cigarettes.

"Jess!" he was sadly interrupted from his addiction by the appearance of his Uncle, the door of the diner swinging behind him. "Come in! Come in! It's a nice lull before the evening storm" he grinned wrapping an arm around his nephew's shoulders.

"Now come on! Leave your stuff, there is plenty of time for that later," said Luke directing him towards the door as he had reached to open his car again to begin unloading some of his possessions.

"_I moved back."_

"_Wh-why?"_

"_I just…..wanted too."_

He was about to curse but then Luke unwrapped his arm and stood staring at the counter. Jess turned himself and all his dreams seemed to collide together in an awful yet inevitable eventuality. Long curly brown hair floated down the back of a delicate looking woman drinking coffee. She was wearing a summer dress and a book was open beside her. Luke coughed from what seemed like a great distance away. The woman turned and for the first time, in the vast diner he had pictured in his mind repeatedly, almost religiously; she wasn't a faceless entity anymore.


	3. Mariano and the Evasive Egg Roll

I like to think I am better at pros that conversation. If I had my way conversation would be in different colours with stage directions. Steinbeck almost had the right idea.

/

"Hi." Was about all he could manage.

"Hi." She said back, of which he got an awful sense of déjà vu.

"Hi," she also said to Luke, clearly conforming to the pattern of repetition.

"Hi," said Luke rolling his eyes, going back round the other side of the counter. He filled Rory's coffee cup and bustled off to the back room.

"Hi," he said stupidly again. She looked just the same, except she'd lost the fringe, grown the hair so it sat around her face, wearing a headband. It looked oddly like the one she'd worn that night near Gypsy's. He hated himself for constantly reminiscing. He'd barely been able to think of anything else.

"So…" she began. He moved towards and round the counter so they were facing each other. Their eyes never leaving the others; save for blinking.

"Jess." She seemed to be finding it just as hard to string together a fully formed sentence as he did. An awkwardness hung in the air, one that he didn't want to be a part of, and was almost about to move upstairs when she continued. Clearly thinking about every individual word as if it were crucial she got them out in the right order.

"I'm sorry." He felt his eyebrows involuntary raise and disappear into his hair. She broke eye contact then to glance around at the eavesdropping clientele that were casting furtive glances their way.

"I wanted to come to Philadelphia. But some of the reasons I came were the wrong ones. And unfortunately I acted upon the wrongs ones."

"We've discussed this…." He said coldly. There was no need to specify. _So this is how she's gonna play it. Get it all out now so the guilt can be washed away before the wedding. Great. Guilt washing at Luke's, I might aswell wash my damn underwear and hang it above the damn tables. Equally as embarrassing._

"I know but it just had to be said." She acts so unsure of herself when looking at him now. Like she's afraid to break him again. She continued.

"People make stupid mistakes. I made stupid mistakes. We all make stupid mistakes. You made up for yours twice over and I still managed to hurt you. And people always said you were bad for me, but let's face it I was bad for me too. And you got me out of that ravine. That death trap. Waste of a life I was leading. You did that. And I hadn't given you anything. You shook me out of that and I never even thanked you for it, so thank you. And I truly mean that. I never thought someone would dedicate a book to me and you did and…thank you for that too. I just want things to be back. We're back where we first met and I want us to be friends Jess. I haven't had a stimulating conversation about books in about 3 years and that's because Paris is out of the country and-" she breathed sharply and began again "- I just miss that. I do. Do you think we can forget about what happened at your book launch? Not it exactly but what happened with us and why I was there and just. I regret how I treated you Jess. It was awful. You never deserved to be treated that way. And I used you as a scape goat like the town did when we were friends back then and I stood up for you, and you still stood up for me after all that time and after all the wrong decisions-"

He just couldn't help himself. He indulged her. Listened to every half syllable that came cascading from her lips a smile first tugging at the corner of his mouth and spreading. A warmth filled him as a sense of familiarity. Just listening to her speak. He was almost counting words per minute when she finally finished.

"You know what with the Wedding I just want things to be ok. And us to get along and my god I need someone to talk books with more than Kirk needs to get out before my heel finds his calf for thinking I can't see him speed dialling Bebette." Her hair flicked around her face as her now hauty eyes oversaw Kirk who squealed childishly before throwing a five dollar bill on the table and making a swift exit. She slowly turned to meet his eyes which were crinkled with amusement. He waited for her to catch her breath before remarking,

"I see you've been improving your words per minute." He'd attempted to hide his smile before it stuck. He couldn't just blow over and be walked all over and then forgive instantly. He had his pride. But he truly was finding it hard not to indulge her.

It was clear that the weak sarcasm in his voice hadn't been obvious enough. The unsure look remained in her eyes. She didn't deserve the book just yet. He didn't want her to have it. At some point; before the wedding he would fully indulge her. But not right now. The book remained on the passenger seat. As much as he wanted to be his old grumpy self and point at his car and state "I have something for you," he wanted to keep his cards closer to his chest this time. Not putting his heart on the line so easily. Hold out a little. Resorting back to a bit of mystery. And he surprised himself as to how easily he could bring that persona back to the surface.

"Thanks for the apology." He acknowledged.

"As I said, it's long overdue." She admitted.

"Yeah, I think I caught a word or two of that in the mesh of words you just spouted."

"Well I was nervous," her tone defensive. Stars Hollow truly did bring about this pattern between the two of them. A silence fell. He grabbed the coffee pot and filled her cup again. Things just seemed to have a way of falling into place.

"I have something for you." Nervously she reached for her bag and pulled out a worn copy of his book. He noted that she must have carried it around and read it cover-to-cover at least….7, maybe 8 times for it to look dishevelled to such a degree.

"I believe I gave this to you," he said confused and slightly hurt.

"Well you see I wrote-"

"Rory! Please order some coffee for mummy, she's having sickly withdrawals and….oh hello Jess." Lorelai has sprung through the door without a glance around, her usual chaotic self. She pulled up a seat at the counter next to her daughter as Jess grabbed a clean cup from the shelf below the register. Filled it as Lorelai continued to announce wedding plans for the entire diner to hear. He quickly took his book of the counter and stashed it roughly in his back pocket to not arouse Lorelai's attention.

Clearly upon hearing her presence, Luke appeared from the stairs and approached Jess and the girls.

"Big strong man. Live long and prosper with me won't you?!" asked Lorelai fluttering her eyelashes and pouting at him. Jess tried to hide his smirk as Luke, clearly embarrassed by the Star Trek reference, attempted to reacquaint himself with his own ketchup bottles.

He noticed Rory staring at the spot where his book had been moments before and locked eyes with her. Trying to read him. _Not right now. Cool as Kerouac at this very moment Mariano._ He thought telling himself this would make him feel better, but it didn't.

He was curious as to why she had given a copy of his book back to him. And he didn't want to check for secret notes of ciphers hidden on the spine infront of Luke and her mother. So he took the pot and went to the few customers dotted around the diner to attempt to busy himself.

"Sorry Jess. How are things with you? Did you manage to get a suit on short notice?" Lorelai was speaking to him directly, and her tone was one he didn't recognise. He assumed concern and caring that had been forced upon her by Luke. It had been a long time since he'd been addressed by Lorelai Gilmore.

"Erm….fine. Thanks," he added, wanting to be polite. "It's hung up in my car. I can go get it for you to check over if you want? I borrowed it off my housemate." He thought adding that he didn't technically own one himself he had infact thought to bring one might potentially get him into her good books. Or at least better, less hated books. He knew nothing of what Rory would have told her mother over the years. He was pretty sure not having knowledge of this information was not going to bring about his slow death. Without waiting for an answer he went to his car and grabbed the suit out of the seat behind the driver. It was wrapped in the plastic covering to maintain its pristine cleanliness.

"There." He handed it to her, she unzipped the front to reveal a dark grey, fitted suit. He was lucky that he fitted the suit so well; differing only in the length of the leg. "Any good?"

"Well I am impressed that you brought one at all. I thought we'd have to wrestle you into one." Remarked Lorelai wearing a small but warm smile nonetheless. "I remember at your mother's wedding… well so long as you're sure."

"I only have to wear it for the ceremony right? Not the whole day?"

"Bingo. Yatzee. Hold onto your hats ladies and gentlemen we have a winnnnerrr!" clearly Lorelai had consumed 4 gallons of coffee already today and should have been put on a permanent drip to source her addiction and temperament.

"Right now that's settled we should head off sweets. Thai food and Almost Famous tonight you requested?" Rory flushed scarlett at this and avoided Jess' knowing gaze. He watched the back of her head leave as the door swung shut behind the two women and swore he heard a faint "Welcome home."

Later that evening once Jess and Luke had taken his things upstairs to the flat above the diner, he finally had a chance to be alone with his thoughts. Luke had kept the flat, but had moved in with Lorelai towards the edge of the town. It was bare apart from a bed, a sofa, a few other appliances and a small collection of books that Luke had clearly found belonging to Jess over the years.

He remembered putting down a book once he'd finished it and coming back to find it missing – tidied away by Luke. He had often forgotten where he had moved most of them too. He took a beer from the small fridge in the remained of the kitchen and sat at the table, taking out his book and setting it infront of him.

He wondered what she had written in here that he was to read. Another apology, a heartfelt reminder of how he reminds her of Hemingway _oh so dreadfully. _He took a sip and opened the book. His dedication page had the familiar words _I couldn't have done it without you. _But now beneath them some new words. Words that were not his own, written in a neat cursive which he immediately recognised. _I only wrote in the margin of yours._

He stared at the, almost foreign words on the page. He was quite unsure as to whether she was attempting to speak for him or speaking on behalf of herself. He gingerly flicked through the other pages finding the same blue-inked cursive along the margins of almost every other page. The grin broke on his face and the warm feeling he'd been fighting when he looked at her earlier washed over him. And this time he let it. Wave after wave as he read humoured thoughts of a young woman he realised hadn't really changed. Especially not in spirit.

The phone rang and it startled him. Someone was called whom knew he was the only one here tonight. Everyone knew Luke lived with Lorelai now. He crossed to the phone, letting it ring in his hand. He was getting sick of this déjà vu occurrence today and eased down into the sofa.

"Hello?"

"Hi,"

"Hey," He should have known. Could anything better mirror their past lives here more so than her calling him after giving him a request about a book.

"Déjà vu huh?" she said clearly worried he might hang up if she didn't speak.

"Yeah, was thinking that myself."

His thoughts catching up with him, he had the cleverest idea he'd had in months.

"I'll answer the questions you wrote in my book. But that's a second egg roll you'll owe me I'm afraid Rory."

He heard her giggle on the other end of the line.

"Deal."


	4. Bookstores

She hadn't intended to call him. But she had to reach out. Show she cared about him, whether he chose to believe her or not. To prove she was sorry and regain some trust in their relationship; wherever they stood with each other.

_It is what it is. You. Me._

They'd spent about 45 minutes on the phone before he'd said he was tired and should sleep. Requested she come by the diner before the Gilmore's Friday night dinner. She'd happily accepted and had her first dreamless sleep in weeks. She wasn't sure if she'd ever forgotten him. Whether his existence hadn't shaped her into the person she was today. He'd certainly made her stronger, with that there was no argument. But it was in her nature to think things through. Over analyse. And that she had done with the night in Philadelphia. How it might have gone differently. At that moment Jess had wanted something to happen between the two of them.

Had she really loved Logan? Two years later she wasn't so sure. Yes she'd turned Jess down but was that just because she'd almost forgotten what it was like when she was with him. She could have turned away and yet she didn't. She let him close the gap between them and she'd felt the fire, albeit slightly muted by her ulterior motives of infidelity.

Even now, grown up, she saw the boy in him. The roguish guile he thought he'd hidden away, but she saw it in his smirks and in the covert looks he was still giving her. What worried her most was whether pursuing Jess again, would inevitably lead to more heart ache. The setting for their story was always going to come full circle once Luke and Lorelai had worked things out. Perhaps she just had to try, work for it and see how things played out.

_It is what it is. You. Me._

Maybe the days of chasing had finally caught up with them. She still found him handsome. She'd yet to see his charming side in the small conversation they'd shared so far on this trip. But there was another week to come to real conclusions about how this would work. What the end result was going to be. She had been impressed by his treatment of her mother. Finally he'd matured enough to increase the single syllables to normal methods of speech.

Her head was spinning from thoughts of him. She'd missed him. A statement that was hard to admit to herself. There was the all too familiar feeling between them, though this time they were both aware of the others situation. It was whether they both considered the timing right. A mutual consensus.

It was Thursday afternoon and she was heading to the bookstore. Where else would she chose to spend a glorious summer's day but amidst old, worn texts, spewing ideas and worlds she could hide in from her own. The bell chimed above the door as she entered, nodding politely to the new clerk behind the desk she breathed deeply. Being in the presence of books. Something that she knew would never change for her. Feeling intrigue for the volumes she hadn't yet perused.

After a few minutes, she perceived quite obviously that someone was watching her. Making her way through the piles of bound paper she bumped straight into him.

"Small world huh?" she noticed his hands were around a book whose cover had been folded back by him.

"Small town." She corrected smiling. If the town wasn't indeed so small she would have assumed a higher power was at work here, but her logical thought knew better. She wanted to seem good natured.

He'd resorted back to a casual shirt with black trousers. He just looked relaxed. He looked like Jess.

"I did wonder whether I would see you in here. An unsurprising Rory Gilmore haunt," he chuckled to himself.

"Well it's been a while since I expanded the colossal collection campaigning for space in my old room."

"Nice alliteration."

"Unintentional."

They just stood and looked at each other. She hated cliques. Truly hated them, but it was almost like a day hadn't gone by since they were 17. Hidden away with the books together, enjoying the shared experience of finding a truly powerful story. What she hadn't put together just yet was that they were writing a pretty good one between them at the moment.

"I did like the notes," he spoke in a low voice, as to not attract attention. "It was like the conversation I had with the you in my head when I was writing it." She looked at him. But he didn't appear to think he'd said anything out of the ordinary. Or anything complimentary.

"Stuck in your head?" she couldn't help her curiosity, right now she was definitely 17, naïve and hoping the bad boy from the city would take her off the straight she knew too well.

"Did I say that? You should see the offers they give returning customers these days…"

"Evasive always did look good on you." He was looking directly at her again, and she realised they were in a familiar section. Although this time she wasn't holding a stack of books. More a small white flag with _Forgive me _written on it waving slightly in the breeze from the open window. He wore the same look he had before he'd kissed her at Truncheon. The set thought process, the forethought and planning finally coming to fruition behind his eyes. But he didn't lean in. His jaw was set. And it still didn't feel quite right to her.

"Depending on your answer to this next question, depends on whether you'll be rewarded." He said catching her off guard. A twinkle in his eye; yet his face remained quite placid.

"Ok…" nodding in confirmation he turned and tugged her about 4 feet into the corner of the shelves.

"Do you remember what I told you here once?" He looked determined. At this exact moment she had no idea what he had to gain from her answer. Not wanting to seem too eager, she decided to feign a look of pondering.

"You said I was a special case to write in margins for. And that you didn't want old "biddies" reading your thoughts… on Kerouac especially," his expression remained unchanged but a static seemed to pass between them.

"That'll about do it. You wrote in the margins of my book, which I initially considered sacrelidge unless anyone but me were to do it, but I'll make an exception this time. And so the reward. It's in my car. Care to take a walk?"

"Glad I could be of nostalgic service." Playfully she took the book he'd been reading and placed it on the small collection she'd managed to get and went to the counter to pay.

"You don't have to Rory. I'm not a charity case anymore."

"It doesn't matter. My job pays better, and I enjoyed your book so much I want to make sure you can survive long enough to write another! Now unless you're going to go all Arthur Conan Doyle on me let's make haste to the surprise!" She was excited. What could he possibly have for her that warranted quizzing before she was deemed fit enough to deserve.

His car was still outside Luke's which meant another ten minute walk across town. Both ambled slowly, unsure of who was really leading.

"Make haste?" he said after a few moments of silence.

"I've been re-reading some Bronte."

"Makes sense. Have you made a speech for the wedding yet?"

"Re-written about 30 times. You?"

"Gonna wing it."

"Classic Jess." He grinned at her response, unaware that the entirety of the town was following their path to the diner. She felt like honesty was the best possible thing to do right now. So instead of sharing how she felt now, she took another trip back to their past.

"You know those devilled eggs?" she asked glancing sideways to meet his eyes.

"Uh-huh."

"You know that was me and mum right?"

"I had my suspicions. Why though?"

She'd expected him to ask but not actually come up with an appropriate response. _I was jealous of Shane. I was jealous of your car. Why had you gotten with her over the summer? Why did I feel this sense of longing towards you now that parallels the exact route we're walking to a winters day from ages past?_

"Jealousy. Angst. Usual teenage things." She breezed over the whole truth but he'd dig. She anticipated it.

"Of Shane?"

"Well the car. Shane. Looking back I guess I felt a mix of envy and disappointment. I had two words on a page y'know." He looked at her blankly, clearly needed her to elaborate this one.

"When I was in D.C. I wanted to write but putting it into words was too difficult. And I was also angry when I came back and saw you with her."

"It is something I regret. Amongst other things…"

They came upto his car and he opened the passenger side door. He pulled out a thick pile of paper held together with two heavy duty bulldog clips in place of the spine. The title read _Catharsis by Jess Mariano. _

He waited for her to say something.

She turned to the first page and read the dedication.

_Nancy._

She willed with every ounce of energy she had not to cry at that moment. But it was too late, she was welling up. Well and truly. She bit her lip and closed her eyes in an attempt to save face.

"Rory?"

"Another? You dedicated another?" she managed to whisper.

"Well this one takes a different turn. But you remain a great Muse of mine Rory."

"But you still…." He shrugged. He looked at her, seeing the beads appear at the corner of her eyes threatening to fall.

"It's not worth crying over," he clearly tried to joke.

"No….. I know. But it's another gesture…."

"That you'll make up for. Say another 20 egg rolls."

"It's easily worth a Thai restaurant" she managed.

He chuckled smirking.

"I'll hold you to that one too!" she laughed at the silliness of it. His unrequieted love that just hadn't left him. He'd clearly thought about her so often she made her way into his books. She hadn't knowingly read a character who she assumed was herself but certain traits and phrases had a Gilmore feel. She had been worried he'd let go. This nonchalant exterior throwing her off as to all of the feelings he was trying to hide.

"Let's get you some coffee. Looks like you need it." Brutal honestly. She'd missed that too.


	5. A Letter Never Sent

**As you can probably tell by now I really like nostalgia. There are a few more things that need clearing up from Jess and Rory's past. Sherman-Palladino owns. **

/

"Hey Luke!" they both said in unison once the door had shut behind them.

He barely glanced from the order he was re-reading while on the telephone, to which he assumed it was Taylor from the grimace his Uncle was wearing. Instead he pointed at the coffee pot then at Rory to which he assumed meant "Serve. Customers. Please." Making his way round the counter he grabbed some napkins and passed them across the counter to Rory who'd positioned herself near the register. She appeared to struggle to take her eyes off the page of which she had clearly been dedicated but eventually raised her head and nodded between sniffles a "thanks".

After serving the few customers they had, yelling some orders at Caesar and almost been strangled by the phone cord, he found himself in front of her again.

"Is there something I can give you?" she said above a whisper.

"What do you mean?" he genuinely didn't know what she could mean by that. He didn't have to dedicate the book to her, but he'd wanted too. _Against my better judgement._ He told himself.

"You've dedicated two books to me. My buying you one book in return isn't quite enough."

"I'm not trying to buy your forgiveness for the things I did wrong Rory." He lowered his voice as he was very aware his Uncle had lowered his even though he was still clearly enraged with Taylor who remained on the other line. "You believed in me when no one else did and that was the drive I had needed. Just someone to say they thought I could make something of life I had almost wasted." He was never one for sharing too much. _You'd think dedicating two books would be enough opening up for me to do._ He thought bitterly.

"I had at least two short stories in me based upon one person's belief." He added. Unsure as to how she'd take that.

"You know what I mean Jess. Just any gesture that can repay you, even slightly. Thank you even."

"There is no need Rory."

"No." she began fiercely. _Got some backbone now have we Gilmore._

Her eyes were puffy and red, and he had to convince himself repeatedly not to hug her across the counter. He felt pathetic. Fighting a guy for her had been easy. Pitting his intelligence and wit against his own – a clear victor could have been predicted by any fool. But this lost feeling he currently had when he looked at her just wouldn't leave him. She focused on his face and he would swear the rest of his writing career that her eyes briefly rested on his lips before finding his eyes again. _Kiss me then. _He felt himself willing her. _I've done my chasing._ The fierce look she was wearing looked so out of place.

"Is that supposed to be your withering stare?" she blanched.

"No…."

"I was going to say. It didn't hurt as much as I imagined for a withering stare." _Liar._

"You might see it if you don't at least give me some idea of what I can do." She tested.

He didn't avert her gaze but he knew he had to think quickly. He wanted answers to questions she knew she would never tell. Knew he didn't really want to know the answers to. But human curiosity was getting the better of him these days. He had used to be able to zone that out, bury it deep and have it come out in fist fights with dumb jocks at High School. _I wonder if I can make his face look even less symmetrical?_ What he really wanted from her was not to be asked. That she could work it out on her own. She was by far the most intelligent and yet most naïve person he had ever met. And the naivety was slowly wearing thin on him. He wanted her to admit that after all this time there was still something between them. That he'd been right. They were right for each other. She just needed to see it. Admit it to herself. He knew that's where his respect would resign. In her honest truth of how she'd felt…feels. And then it came to him. The one method of communication they were both spectacular at. This time there was a reason to stay, no excuse not to….

"Write me something." He offered simply.

Her eyebrows raised. Her blue eyes were wide which was shortly followed by the furrowing of her brow and the nod of understanding.

"You got it. When do you expect it on your desk?" He didn't have a desk here.

"I assume the deadline is soon giving pressing events?" She questioned further in a business like tone, a small smile fighting through. He cottoned on.

"First thing tomorrow."

"Excellent! I'll get on it right away Ben!" _Almost Famous reference…..good one Gilmore._ She grabbed her bag to leave, looking down at his book for a moment.

"That's your copy." He clarified.

"Thanks again, Jess," falling straight out of character. Whether for his or her benefit he wasn't sure.

And with that she left.

/

It was late that night when he'd locked up the diner and finally got a moment to himself. He'd already fallen into the habit of grabbing a beer from the fridge and just sitting at the table for a while. _When did you become a creature of habit?_ With that thought he stood up abruptly and began pacing for something to keep him occupied. It would be too easy to go to her house. Ask her to take a walk with him. Instead he figured he could write. Something. Finally, after finding an old notebook which had orders of burger buns back from 2005 written in it, he tore out the first few pages and set to work on his Best Man Speech.

He was aware Luke hadn't directly asked him but becoming a published writer clearly came with the territory and he hoped Luke would assume he knew this was his duty and that he wouldn't let him down. After all he'd nearly finished paying him back. Not that they spoke about it after the heated discussion about 6 months ago when Luke looked over his bank statements and saw about a hundred dollars going in there every month from a bank account he hadn't recognised.

Gradually a small bundle of screwed up paper was collecting around him. He couldn't find the words. Writers block for something as simple as a Best Man speech just didn't happen. He didn't know Lorelai that well to this day so he had to go in a more general direction. Love. Longing. Time passing between friends. Sadly he was aware he had experience in all of the above with a different Gilmore.

Thankfully his attention was averted from the paper by a sharp tap at the window. Slightly confused he crept towards it; slightly expecting to see a wild looking bird perched on the sill. To his surprise, drawing the curtains back didn't reveal anything. But another tap, louder this time along with the window shuddering caused him to look down by the front door of the diner.

In the light of the streetlamps there was no doubt who it was. The light cascaded on her right side but he could see the timid grin even one floor up. She waved once she realised she had his attention and then pointed to the door downstairs. Nodding to the siloette below he rushed to put on some shoes hurrying down the stairs to find her gone. _Am I going completely crazy? This damn town has an effect on people that way, Jess. And now you're even talking to yourself. Just great._ As he moved closer to the door he noticed a small envelope had been half wedged under the door. It hadn't even been sealed.

Picking it up he turned it over in his hands and saw some blue lined paper fitted loosely inside. He checked outside to see she definitely wasn't still there to be let in before pulling out a chair for himself at one of the tables.

Gingerly opening the envelope he found what he assumed to be a letter. Unable to control his heart from beginning to merrily skip around his chest he began to read.

_Dear Jess,_

_Home truths. Please read this with a clear mind. A letter sent should be to inform and communicate and this is something I had to say but couldn't say to you directly. Hopefully you'll understand as there are a few things you'll read here that I know you wouldn't have stayed in my presence for if they had been spoken by me. I have wanted to say for a long time. Details here are all true. Abrupt as they may be. But there is reason behind them. I hope as a writer yourself you'll understand why they are relevant. I don't think you would believe me otherwise. And your request shall be fulfilled. _

_I lost my virginity to Dean. That's why I couldn't have just run away with you. I had given up something so important with him that at that moment I was blinded by the thought that I should try that relationship again. I couldn't have imagined wasting my first time on something that wouldn't have amounted to anything. If that hadn't happened I don't know; I might have accepted your offer. (At the very least for a few days trip with you before I had inevitably panicked and asked you to take me home.) Believe me the thought crossed my mind; I just couldn't wholly fathom the idea of leaving academia like that so brusquely at that moment.  
Also I have to be honest, as much as the idea of running away in general gave me a thrill I felt somewhere along the line at that time it wouldn't have worked. And yes, I had thought about this on many occasions but somehow all those thoughts came to me in those few short seconds. And I said no.  
Another important point to note is that it could have been us. You, I mean. That night at that party should not have ended the way it did. I had confessed to my mother a few weeks previously (and I know you'll cringe that I spoke to my mother about this but you should also know by now that there are few things that we don't discuss) But I just hadn't wanted it to happen there. It might have been another few months before we were alone and the opportunity arose again but I had hoped you were patient. And you had been. And for that I was truly grateful.  
This is not intended to sound overly flattering, only truthful and I do hope it comes across this way. But I had hoped back then it would have been you. I stand by that. I was ready and things just didn't pan out the way I had planned, and back then I hated plans not following through. I hated not knowing the right answer. But now I have finally managed to realise that life just doesn't always work in your favour. No matter how organised or how many plans you make or how many lists you make. Sometimes things will always remain unfinished, unwritten or unfulfilled. _

_I came to Philadelphia to see you. It hadn't been a trip intended with an alternative agenda or an underlying dark and frankly hurtful motive. The feeling of that kiss had been something I had forgotten until it happened again. The feeling of being connected to you (and believe me now this soppy-ness is making me embarrassed) was something that came flooding back so hard I had felt effectively concussed. Ultimately this confused me but my honesty got the better of me in that moment. I had been in love with him then. And the guilt that rocked me most was that all feelings for Logan had ebbed the second I saw you in that room. In truth, this similarly mirrored our first physical encounter. My thoughts should have souly been upon someone else but instead I found myself drawn to you. In both cases I let the wrong thing happen at the wrong time through poor self-restraint. Leading to heartache. Though neither gesture was ever regretted. But you have to understand that in neither of those cases were you second best. Second rate or second anything. I felt….feel a comfort in you that just will not and has not ever subsided or even come close with anyone else. It's why I let it consume me at times. I know not to fight it now. The only other person who knows me as well as you is my own mother. And to this day that terrifies me. How you do, I still haven't quite managed to answer myself. One day I am hoping you'll fill in the blanks on that one for me._

_I realise the past has been dug up far too many times between you and I. I know that. But these truths had to be told. And this time I wrote a letter, I didn't just write your name at the top of a piece of paper and wish the words would come to me. I gained the courage to write this because of you. I hope you see this as a good, honest gesture and that perhaps you now know how I truly feel about the past (having spent a long time dwelling on it) that we might have a chance of a future. If it's not enough for now, I will start saving for that Thai restaurant. Or the entire first edition works of Allen Ginsberg; whichever you prefer._

_Rory_

He felt dazed and elated all at once. She'd been truthful. _Perhaps _too_ truthful._ He argued. He re-read the letter about 12 times becoming angry, relieved, heartbroken and optimistic in a full, continuous circle as he continued looping through her words. His eyes gave in somewhere in the middle of the 13th study and he fell asleep with his head on the table; the letter in his hands.

He woke to Luke shaking him as the dawn light blazed through the windows.

/

**If you hadn't guessed this is indeed just a little more filler to a few more unanswered questions. I am not trying to cover every single base with this story, I just feel this would be a natural progression. I hope you folks get that!**


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